


Not all Kings Wear Crowns

by Living_Fast



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex needs someone to Care for him, Alexander has only ever Spoken French and Latin, Alexander has some problems, Alexander just wants to know as much as he knows, But he's trying, F/F, F/M, George is the over protective mother, Gilbert is a good Teacher, He Starts Speaking soon, He can write English, He'll get it, He's also a Selective Mute, I am sorry Alexander, It Gets Better, James Connects the dotes first, James Knows he knows much more then he knows, M/M, Martha's the unamused Wife, Other, This was supposed to be like 3 or 4 chapters..., Thomas is Slightly Clueless, Thomas thinks he knows more then he knows, as you can see., but not enough, by that I mean a lot, he's learning, i think this was a mistake., if you don't notice it's a slow burn, im a mean person, its going to be longer than that, maybe a little English, nah, not really - Freeform, this is a soulmate au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-01-29 18:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12636303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Fast/pseuds/Living_Fast
Summary: When the Gods created Man and Woman they split the soul in two. Removing the colors from the world, a price to find the rest of your soul. Your Soulmate is you other half... sometimes The Gods made it harder splitting the soul in three or taking part of one soul and placing it in another only for the others soul to belong to another.Your Soulmate is strong where you’re weak, is loving where you’re cold, is falling apart where the other is whole.Alexander is in pain in more ways then one he’s Falling apart.Thomas and James have know each other sense they were children....String snaps, hands touch, and the world comes crashing down.(Summary been rewritten, stories the same)





	1. War Comes with a Price

**Author's Note:**

> {French}
> 
>  
> 
> That's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {"French"}

* * *

The hard tension that Rung through the Air, could be cut with a Bayonet. The General walked into the center of Camp to where 6 Men in A dark gray coats Had been pushed to their knees. Five Were Looking at the ground one was holding in sobs, one was Shaking.

The Sixth one Had on a coat that actually swallowed his frame in an extramly unhealthy way. His head was Held him looking at the Revolution General with Fire filled eyes, Washington looked at all of them with distaste but a gentle felling Rose in his Stomach when he locked eyes with the smallest.

His hair would be long out of a Pony tail, would drop to the middle of his back most likely. The Pants on his legs Made him look small then he probably was, His Shirt was stained and His face had Heavy Dark Gray markings. He looked to be struggling slightly to stay on his knees. Though despite that He didn't Move or make a notice of Fear. Like he expected Death long ago and was fine with it.

Now George looked down at his frame and conspired it too the others on the ground. And you could tell who had been favorited. The others filled out their Clothing and didn't have hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. They didn't have Blood running from May places on their body, or Finger nail like Scratches down their faces.

George Dropped Level with the Man, who looked no older then 16; but the look in his eyes Made his second guess he age. He stared straight into his eyes and slid a finger under his Chin. "You name?" He asked. The Boy didn't Hesitate to Snarl and Spit in his face the sound of shuffling and Guns Being lifted sounded around the Camp.

"Stand down men." George commanded Wipping his face with the sleeve of his Lighter colored coat. He looked at the boy and Waved at the Man with a Gun pointed at his Head. "Give him a bath, patch him up, Give him some proper clothing, And deliver him to my Quarters he'll be Having dinner with me."

"But sir-"

"That's an Order."

"Yes Sir, Laurens!" 

"And the rest?" Burr Asked quitly, Watching as the Small Boy who Bearly came To Washingtons Chest he tugged to his feet. He favored his left Leg heavily. Leaving John Laurens the man escorting him too the Baths To Carry him slightly.

"Kill them."

* * *

 The Boy Let out a sharp gasp of Pain as he was dropped onto a Small Wooden Bench. A Woman raced over too Him, pushing the man away from him. "A Kings men? Washingtons Gone crazy." She muttered, Pulling off his Coat.

She studied the blood on his shirt before pulling it off, she Let out a small gasp of horror at the Hand prints and Cuts That Painted his Skin a mix of Grays. She ran Her fingers along The Crown that was Burned into his Lower Stomach on the Right side Just above him hip. Then she trailed them up too the new Mark on his Neck, just below his Jaw line Carved into the skin with a Hot knife. Was another Crown it was bleeding, and was a dark unhealthy color stating infection.

She Let him Slowly pull off the Rest of his clothing, he could feel the woman's eyes Burning into his Skin. Counting every Hicky, every Hand Print, every scar, and every Bone she could see. He lifted himself up at her request and into the small bath Tub.

The warm water Left him feeling Colder then before, he said nothing as she Slowly washed his Hair after pulling the Braid out. She then took a Pair of Scissors and cut his Hair up to his soulder blades.

She Patched him up, Covering the Fresh infected Crown with heavy bandages seeing as it was Bleeding still. Laurens came back in As he had been standing out side the tent waiting. The Boy had a pair of pants on and was Pulling on the still over the top large shirt on.

He still said nothing, fearing he would say the wrong thing or that It would be panicked French coming out of his mouth. About the plains The king had for America, or that He would start crying. He was scared but he wasn't going to show it, the hands on his skin or the Hands in his hair or just hand was too much. He was scared and he just wanted to Sleep and never wake up.

Laurens offered with a Slight lean of his soulders to let him Lean on Him. The boy Stiffened and Shifted away. He could barely walk but he didn't give a shit he wasn't going to be touched anymore. Hands Scared him terrified him, bit and tore at his skin letting it bleed and bruise and hurt.

* * *

Washington Walked into him Quarters staring at the small Figure sitting Down on the floor. Like he'd been dumped there and refused to moved. George sat down and Ate While the boy who had Moved to the table at His request like a Dog almost, didn't touch a thing on the plate. His lip was Caught between his Teeth, and his eyes Slightly down cast but still Watching George carefully.

The Military General put his Fork down, stood up from his chair was Made his way around the table to the boy. "Your Name?" The small think Gulped, but didn't respond. "All I need is a name. Nothing else." George went to put a hand on his Soulder but the small thing panicked moved away from the Touch like he'd been burned. The small French words of {"No touch, no Touch."} Over and over again filled Washingtons ears. He removed his hand letting to small Boy regain his Wits and Calm down. "All I need is your name, son."

The boy shut his eyes tight, Swallowing slightly. "A-Alexander.... Hamilton." He Shoved Down his accent as Far as Possible drowning the Words in something that sounded remotely normal, he swallowed the French and searched for the English words.

"A Beautiful name, now Alexander Can you tell me why I can almost count all of your Ribs through that Large shirt?" His tone was gentle and soft. Almost Senseing the scaredness suddenly flowing off the boy. Alexander didn't say anything, his hands rolled into fists. And for once in his Life the sobs rose from his throats and spilled over his lips, and that's all George needed to know.

He Hesitated before Wrapping the Small man into a hug. The Small boy sobbed and clawed at his arms trying to push him away, he finally went slack and gave in. Just Stopping caring for a moment and let himself cry.

It had Been a long time sense he'd had Gentle Words and kind hands but he hated it. The fact that this was an Enemy General and he was crying into his shirt like child. So maybe it wasn't the best idea but he couldn't help it, it have been so so so long sense anyone has been Soft with him. Treated him like a human being, not a toy. 

* * *

 George Sat at his desk, with the bed room door in sight. He Had set Alexnader on the bed and the boy promotly Curled up, faced away from him and fell a sleep. George felt his heart ache, he wanted to show the small boy that their was some kind left in the world. 

He had ordered for a Cot to be put in an empty room, and for Hercules Mulligan to come talk too him. He watched as the door blew open slightly at the Wind blew through the house, he looked up as a knock tapped of his office door. 

Hercules Mulligan, in his 6'3 glory walked into the room. The tall man looked slightly uncomfortable, "Private Mulligan you are a Tailor correct?" The Man nodded, "Yes sir." standing a bit straighter. George gave him a Slight Smile, waving to one of the seats across from his desk. "I believe you know of our Guest, Mr. Hamilton." 

Hercules gave him a Confused look then Relization dawned on his face. "Yes sir, one of My friends John Laurens Helped escort him." George leaned back in his chair, hands Resting in his lap. "Yes, I want you to Size Mr. Hamilton for me and possibly help getting him proper clothes,". George pulled out a piece of parchment, "the ones he's wearing at the moment don't seem to work." 

Hercules looked Amazed to be asked to do something other then shoot a gun. "I'd be honored, sir." He stood up, "I'll go get my things." 

"Oh, and Mulligan Before you go, I believe you'll need material for an over coat." 

Hercules Smirked, "Yes, sir." 

* * *

Alexander turned over in the soft bed mumbling quietly in French. He wanted to go back to sleep but couldn't quite get there. He curled closer together when Voices Came from outside the door, his Last name was mentioned but he nodded off slightly. 

He woke up again around noon probably, he slowly slid out of bed carefully Aware of His left leg. He pressed a little weight to it but recoiled as pain raced up his leg like fire. He limped holding on to the wall, into the main room. The General seemed to have Left the House, Alexander looked at his desk and shifted slightly. 

He looked over the letters the Flooded the desk, he Saw many In French that had been Put aside. His noise crinkled at the Pages of Misspelled Ink and Incorrect French Trasnslations. He Leaned Heavly on the desk, looking over the pages. He reached over to one that he recognized to be From a British officer. 

"Alexander?" George said The small Man Jumped dropping the letter on the desk. He turned Wide eyed toward him, his hands curled Slightly. He limped away from the desk as quickly as possible. 

"You looking at my Horrible mess? I need to get caught up, but more just keep pouring in." George Strode across the room, he stood behind the desk and Tried staighting it up.

Alexander Stood back, shocked. He normally would get yelled at for looking at letters, or doing anything that showed intelligence. Because Wh- no. Shove that to the back of your head, Alexander.

Alexander Slowly limped back over to the desk, he tapped the stack of Letters on the corner of the desk. "French, don't speak it. And my Translator is out at the moment." Alexander Slowly grabbed the top letter after a look at the General. He opened it, scanning the Words he let his nose scrunch up again. Alexander scanned the desk looking for a Spair Piece of Parchment, and a Quill.  

Alexander Jumped slightly when George Handed him the two things. Eyes wide he Grabed the out stretched things, carefully avoiding His hands. He sat down at the Table and Translated the letter. The Script Small and careful, his hand Rejected the movement. Seeing as last time he picked up a quill he Got his Hand Broken. And it never healed quite right. 

Alexander handed the Parchment back, putting the Quill down. George Looked at Him with an Eyebrow raised, he didn't look so sure that was what it said. "Can you write a response?" Alexander nodded Picking the Quill back up, he looked at George waiting for him to say anything. 

Alexander sealed the Letter, sliding it across the desk. "I believe I found something for you to do." Alexander stiffened, shifting in the chair uncomfortable. Pain caught of fire and slit up His body, his head throbbed, his leg was in the most Painful position he'd ever put it in, his hand cramping up, his chest Hurt, and The Mark on his neck felt it was Burning.

He gulpped down a Whimper, he watched Washington with Surprise in his eyes. The Grays he Was Convered in clashed with each other. He gave Him a Slightly Gateful and slightly Scared look, hands curled Tightly around the seat of the chair. {"Thank you."} he whispered as George Turned to call a Man into the Room. 

"Hercules, Meet Alexander Hamilton." Alexander looked up at the tall man, his Eyes slowly Sparking into Flames hiding the Panic and Pain. He was tall about 6'3 a Bag slung over his shoulder, he had the slight Same ora as The General. Kind, Stronge, and Hard spoken just lacked the Comanding Respect aspect. 

Alexander didn't move As The Man unloaded his bag on to the table. He suddenly Understood why He was there, Hercules gave him a smile. "Can you stand up for me Alexander?"  Alexander Slowly stood Lifting all weight off His Left leg. His fingers Curled around the edge of the chair. 

He stood through the Hands and Voices, questions, he Tried not to Flinch away from the Touch. He Pushed the pain away it clawed at his stomach and Burned down his Body. He could almost Still feel the Hard Bruising hands on his skin, the Burning between his Legs, the Heat that still lingers On his hips, and The pressure of knife Cutting skin. 

He caught Hercules Muttering under his breath. "4'8, what?" Alexander stiffened More as Hercules Placed a few more pens in the shirt he wore. "How old are you?" Alexander Looked at him for a moment, Before racking him mind For the English words. "19" Hercules looked at him with wide eyes, "I- I think." Alexander Slowly said, this voice think with an Accent suddenly. 

Hercules said nothing for the rest of time which was perfectly fine with Alexander. 

              -a couple days later-

* * *

 Lafayette Laughed as he headed through camp, He patted John's arm. "I Have to go George is probably Needing my assists." Hercules Looked up at that he was staring at his Drink. He nodded, Waving at him. 

Lafayette Walked into the Generals tent, Instead of George sitting at his desk. A small boy sat at the desk instead. George walked into the room With more Parchment and a box of ink pots. "Ah! Gilbert, Welcome back." He set the box down on the desk. The boy looked up startled, his Eyes locked on too Lafayette's form. {"Hello} to you General, might I ask who is this?" He asked waving a The boy. 

He was watching Lafayette with careful eyes and a Slightly scared Gaze. "This is Alexander Hamilton, he's Another Translator." Alexander nodded at Lafayette going back to the Paper in front of him. His nose crinkled, he shook his head pushing it way. He dropped the quill, rubing his writing hand. Lafayette knew he recognized that Name some where. 

The boy Watched Gilbert a little closer as He came closer to the desk. "Nice to meet you Alexander." The small Boy Looked at his Hand that was out stretched to Shake his hand in Greeting. Alexander Stiffened, George Watched the exchange. 

Alexnader Didn't Move to take the hand at all. He was growing so used to No one Touching him, that he didn't want to be at all anymore. He turned his Head Slightly To look at the papers On the desk again. 

Lafayette Felt a little Dejected and Pissed off. He Grit his teeth, turning to George who he expected to Be A little Angry. But instead was greeted with a Frown and a Sympathetic look. Alexander Pushed Six Letters Toward the edge of the desk, before standing up a Limping off into The other room. 

"I'm... sorry about him. He's not very.." Lafayette waved it off And picked up the Six letters. The boys Handwriting could use a Bit of Work but he's got a way with the Quill that's For sure. "He's not talkative?" Gilbert asked, Turning back to George. The General Nodded rubbing his index finger against a piece of Parchment. "Kingsmen's Pet." He whispered, Gilberts Eyes went wide he looked horrified. "You mean that they raped him?!" George Stared at him "I'll trust you keep that too yourself." Lafayette suddenly Marked down a goal to Make sure no one messed with the Small boy. "Yes sir." 

* * *

 And Lafayette Keeps to that Goal he Works with Alexander, teaches him a bit more English words when he can get the small thing to speak. He has gotten the chance to Touch him, anytime he Try's Alexander Panic's. But Gibert is okay with  it, and Slowly the two fell into a pattern of Quiet Work. 

Gilbert Takes small mental notes on Alexanders ticks and Movments. He Watches his Mannerisms and his moods, he's Careful around him when he's sometimes to quiet. Or when his Quietness is Loud, and too notice able. He never really let Alexander out of his sight if he had too, When working he Watched him out of the corner of his eye.

Alexander saw and noticed most of things Gilbert did. He noticed how The Frenchman wanted to Reach out and put a Hand on his soulder or Put a comforting arm over a shoulder. He knew part of him wanted him too the other part screamed at him told him that all people where the same. 

* * *

Alexander Leaned over the Table, looking at the paper in Lafayette's hand. His nose crinkled Slightly he Brushed Hands with the Frenchman Slightly he didn't mean too, Really. It just happened. Neither Said anything about it, both Silently Agreeing that there was no reason to talk about it. "Petit Lion, I have a Question for you." Alexander looked up, raising an eyebrow. It had been a Couple of months sense Alexander had Been Saved by George in away.

He relaxed more, let the tension bleed out of his shoulders when he was Alone with The French man or the General. He still Limped around, the Crown carved into his neck was Covered by his Coat collar.  

"My Friends and I Are going out tonight. Would you like to join us?" Alexander Shifted, anxiety unfolding in his chest. "I- I um...." he trailed off looking about the room, anywhere but Lafayette. {"It's fine you don't have too."} Alexander felt a Small switch being flipped in his brain, the French was comfort. {"I don't think I can leave Camp, George Doesn't like it-"} the Frenchman cut him off, Careful about Alexander's words. He tended to only speak so much in a day, little things. 

{"I'll go? Have to ask George."} Lafayette Shook his head, watching Alexnader Rub his writing hand with his other hand. His Lip caught between His teeth. {"You don't sound so sure Petit Lion."} Alexnader Shifted away, Picking the Quill back up. He let the silence climb back up his throat and lock away his voice. He was stiff again, hands Gripped around the Quill too Tight. 

Gilbert Withdrew his Hands and Went back to his own letters.  

* * *

 

Alexander slowly followed Gilbert, out of the tent. He stood a far distances away, But he kept Gilbert in sight.  He didn't know why he Agreed to go, he didn't know why he Felt the need to go. He just was going. 

The Frenchman found two other men, he turned Locking eyes with Alexander and waved him over. Alexander Wanted to turn back around and go back to George's tent and Just work. He knew he wouldn't get anything out that wasn't French. He'd trip over his words and they'd get stuck in his throat. He knew that he had a Problem when it came to English, the Language was uncomfortable and unsafe to him. He's been so used to not using it he couldn't let the words fall over him, not like French or Latin did. 

French and Latin. When he used his native Language he was being wrapped up in a blanket of safety. Alexander Sped up a little bit slowly coming to stand at Lafayette's side, his fingers where twisted together behind his back his hair was down and a curly mess. He felt Exposed and too open, that alone was nerve racking. He bit into his lip, Hercules smiled at Alexander John gave him a light calming look. 

Alexander stood stiffly and didn't say a thing. Another man joined the four, he gave off a quiet aura. "I'm only going so if you all get drunk you don't kill yourselves." A snort came from Gilbert he nodded his head at Hamilton. "I doubt I'll drink more then two Adam Adams. Burr." Burr Shook his head and they walked to the Town that Wasn't under England's iron grip. Alexander Slowly inched closer to Gilbert but away as well. 

At the bar Alexander sat at a table resting his hands on the Wood Top. His noise crinkled at the stench of Alcohol and puke. His legs tangled with each other.

"Hamilton right? Washingtons little Whore." And there went his Calm, collected, mask. His shoulers tensed, his brain came to a screeching hult, and his heart Thumbed a little to loudly in his chest.

The only other Person at the arable was Aaron Burr. Who saw the changes in his Demeanor, he glared at the Man behind Hamilton. Though he wasn't paying any attention to Burr, he had Leaned down Level with Alexanders ear. "Do you bend over every flat surface for Men with high Ranks? KingsMen knew most of them where sluts." Alexander wanted to move away, to yell and kick and scream. He couldn't though, the man had over stepped his hand was Latched on to Alexanders Arm. 

"Wanna come bend over something for me? Whore." Burr was about to the Same something along the lines of "Fuck off." When a French voice cut in, it was angry. "I am going to give you 2 seconds to move." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave Kudos, and comments it's very upsetting for an author to feel like they wrote things for nothing.


	2. Why can't they see that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {"french"}
> 
> Italics=foreshadowing
> 
> I should also point out that this is not at all Historically correct. None of it at all, well some of it is... just not all of it.

* * *

"What you taking care of The Generals Whore?" Gilbert felt the anger Curl up in his stomach, and growl. "He is not a Whore, now remove your hand from his shoulder." The mans upper lip curled his eyes full of a Angered gray. "Or what? You'll Hit me? Over just another Slut?" This man better step off before he rips his hands off, Alexander looked terrified, absolutely Terrified. Hercules looked a bit shocked Laf was never his upset, the look in his eyes, and the Dangerous way he was standing all of a sudden. Alexander slowly looked up at Gilbert he shook his head but the french man had already had his hands on the mans neck, before he could open his mouth again, and was yanking him away from Alexander. The mans hand had been clawing at the crown on his neck ripped the scab off as he hit the ground with a heavy thump. John was staring at Alexander as his Crown had started bleeding heavily.

Alexander was frozen his mind was at a stop, and the beating in his chest got harder and louder to his own ears. Gilbert's Movements and voice had drawn the attention of everyone in the bar. John tore his gaze away from the blood dripping down Hamilton's neck, he grabbed Gilbert's arm tearing him off the other man, the french man was probably going to have be dragged screaming and kicking out of the bar. The Frenchman whipped his mouth his lip split, he took a deep breath after locking eyes with Alexander. The small thing flinched away from Gilbert when he walked back over to him, {"You need to take a deep breath and count to 10 and let it out Alexander." The boy let out a small sound, Burr was back at the counter Paying and getting some cloth. He handed the gray cloth to Gilbert, who gratefully took it. 

{"Alexander Hamilton, Breath."} the small man Closed his eyes before sucking a breath in, counting to 10 then letting it out. {"Good, now lets not let you bleed to death hmm?"} He held out the cloth then care fully pressed it to the crown, Alexander kept his eyes closed.  The first words he uttered sense he talked to George, happened to be the only real personality he had uttered. "Why the Fuck did I not get to hit him?" Gilbert looked at the small 4'8 boy with wide eyes, he then started laughing. His voice only reached Gilbert and Burr the normal emotional less face had a light smile gracing his features. 

The group made their way back to the camp, Alexander was still holding the now much darker cloth to his Neck still. He was Tucked into Gilbert's side, the only touch he could really stand. The Frenchman's arm draped over his shoulders; Gilbert's hold was protective and calming, reminded him much of his Older Brothers hold. Hercules's hand was linked with Gilbert's. John and Aaron where walking behind them _John was staring at Alexanders's hand that was hanging limp squished between bodies. Like he wanted to grab it, and pull Alexander to his chest and hold him instead of Gilbert._

* * *

 Alexander trapped his lip between his teeth, tapping his fingers along the table in a uneven pattern. His eyes glued to the invitation to the Winters Ball, an invitation too George for all the soldiers were welcome to go. He slowly stood hand walked into the room where Washington was working in, Gilbert was out at the moment. "Son?" Alexander jumped his eyes moving from the letter in his hands to Washington's face. "You've been standing there for at least ten minuets, You alright?" He nodded walking competently in the room. He handed the letter to George, "The Schuyler's need a response." George smiled up at Alexander happy he started forming sentences around him, though they weren't complete they where still sentences. 

"Then you can send a yes." Alexander nodded moving back to his desk, Picking up his quill. He started the formal yes seeing as you couldn't just send a "Yes" Alexander let the scratch of the Quill fill the empty space. He smiled lightly at Gilbert who walked in the room, the Frenchman gave him a blinding smile back. He shifted the hard chair bothering his left leg. 

{"The Winters Ball? Big chance to find your soulmate."} Alexander let his nose crinkle and shook his head. To much too think on, too many possibilities, too many Hands. Alexander just went back to writing the response, Gilbert sat at his desk and got to work writing the things he need too. 

* * *

 Alexander Heard the Ball before he walked in, he heard the noise and Laughter, and Chatter. A Wave of Nerves crashed into him, drowning him. Suddenly a warmth at his side made the thoughts stop moving, "You'll be fine, just don't engage yourself too much and stop thinking so hard." The Frenchman removed his hand From Alexander's arm walking in the ball room. Alexander watched others follow he reached up making sure the Crown was covered in bandages, it was easier to hide it like that. Alexander let out a breath gathered himself and walked in, Head high and eyes above the crowd. People looked his way, Some nudge the person next to them. So much for not Engaging yourself Hamilton. 

 

Elizabeth Schuyler laughed as she watched her Sisters flirt and Dance, she held the glass of whine in her hand covering her mouth with the other. Then a Man next to her Nudge her side she at first thought he was just trying to get her attention but then he pointed. At the doors a Man who looked around the age 16 maybe, but the way he held himself made her slightly confused. He looked like her father, They way he held his head, the way he stood, the way his eyes swept the crowd. 

The man turned to were a small group of Soldiers stood, he Limped heavily over to them. Despite the Limp his walk was steady and even. When he reached the group the Second tallest held out a hand that the Boy latched onto and folded into His side.

Eliza for a while thought they were soulmates but that wasn't right if they where they would have entered together. She watched him for a while, she saw her sister pass in front of her. She grabbed Angelica's wrist, looking her in the eye. "This one's mine." the words fell off her lip with hopeful eyes. She missed the hurt look that passed her through her sisters eyes. Peggy waltzed by with a smirk on her face with three soldiers following her. 

Angelica was the First to approach The man, the Group of people had walked off, with what looked like promises to be back soon. He looked surprised that he was approached in the first place. Eliza felt her heart plummet when Angelica seemed too cox a small smile out of the man. Angelica reached out to take his hand as if it was an offer. His hands went to his sides and he took a half step back. Eyes watching her Wearily. Angelica pointed at Eliza, then said something. 

"Elizabeth Schuyler." Alexander felt the tightness in his chest get tighter, he searched frantically in his mind for the right words, the right Language, the right response. "Stop  _thinking so hard."_ Alexander Took a deep breath."Schuyler?" and there goes your first impression, Whor.

No not now. 

"My sister." Alexander felt a smile tug at the corners of him lips, he hopped it didn't look like a grimace. "Ah, Alexander. " Alexander slowly let the girls create small talk his eyes looking for his Friends. "Would you like to dance Alexander?" Eliza offered hand reaching out, Alexander felt the panic creep up, like a snake prepared to strike. "Uhh.. I... um... S-sure?" So Eliza lead him back on the floor and he was 100% sure his Friends where fucking with him. Eliza placed a hand on his shoulder and she stuffed a gasp. 

Several colors flooded her gaze, like the blue of Her dress. The dark Navy of Alexanders, the Auburn color of his hair, and the Violet blue that swam in his eyes. But she saw that nothing changed on His face no awe or anything. So she hid it and let them dance around the room. 

* * *

Alexander Felt dread pool in his stomach when Eliza asked to write him, He nodded probably a bit too quickly. Alexander walked back into the crowd his slim frame slipping in between people way to easily. He found Gilbert and tucked himself into the Frenchman's side, his body shook, his hands curled around his coat sleeve he ripped holes in the fabric. "Alexander? Hey what's wrong." Alexander Shook his head, it was stupid but too many hands. Too much, he thought too hard, pushed himself into the wrong mindset, he put himself into a spot that made his chest tighten and mind buzz with too many out comes. It was too much. {"Alexander, Breath Little Lion. Shh."} Gilbert placed his hand in between his shoulder blades and walked him out side. He turned toward the person closest and barked something. 

Alexander whimpered as a different set of thoughts filled his head, he let his mind get a head of him. The hand Gilbert hand on his back holding the panicking boy close morphed in his mind. It wasn't soft anymore it was a tight Lust grip the one that left hands on bis skin. He placed his hand on Gilbert's wrist and pushed it away a choked sob falling from his lips, the Frenchman startled when he felt Alexanders nails dig into his arm. He pulled his hands off and kept Alexander at arms length. Alexander pushed him away, a Set of words falling and dying on his small scabbed over lips. 

{"Alexander Hamilton you are a snarky little shit when I get you relax. Your a smart ass, and a Sweetheart. You are nothing that They told you, you are fine nowhere near those people anymore they can't hurt you. Alex your okay."} The Frenchman whispered over and over, that he was okay. That they couldn't hurt him anymore. {"But they already ruined me."} he sobbed his hands clawing at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and There it was. The black mark that Stood out on his gray scared white skin, the mark of a Kings men's pet, their slut, their whore, the play thing that they used in their spare time. The Crown was Burned there and would never go away it wasn't went to be a Temporary thing. 

That was the first time Gilbert felt he couldn't calm Alexander down. That he was terrified that Alexander wouldn't calm down and they would not longer have a Small quiet friend. He held the small boy close and didn't let him go. Let him sob for all it's worth, and finally Alexander calmed down to the point all he was doing was Crying and whispering apologizes. He let the boy apologize as he sat him in their ride, he curled himself around Alexander pulling the smaller male into his lap. Whispering small things into his scalp, running his fingers through the Locks of hair after pulling out the ribbon. 

Gilbert from that day on if they went to a large party would not let Alexander out of his sight, his little brother. 

* * *

Alexander said nothing to anybody after that night, his shying away from hands got worse. He was trying to distance himself, trying to make it back to life.

George's Wife/soulmate where coming to camp soon. Alexander was just doing his job and sleeping at this point. Gilbert Tried everything, Alexander seemed to get smaller as time went on. George said something to him once that Alexander was there from before dawn to Way after dusk. "He's working himself into the ground, and will not Eat anything." Gilbert nodded rumbing him temples, he was pretty much incharge of Alexander at this point. 

"I'll go see what's wrong, he's probably just still freaked out after what happened at the Ball." Though he knew it was a lie, he Had watched Alexander fall apart. He was worried about that he couldn't help patch Him together anyone. 

* * *

Alexander was sitting at his desk like always, only this time his quill was flying across the paper much faster then normal. His lower lip trapped between his teeth, his hands stained with ink. His eyes narrowed, hair falling into his face. The escaping curls framing his face making him look much younger then he was, Gilbert made sure Alexander could hear him enter the room. He looked up confusion written across his face before returning to the parchment. {"Alexander, when was the last time you slept?" The boy stiffened, eyes slowly leaving his work. Shrugging the boy watched Gilbert cross the room, and stood in front of Alexander. {"Well Little Brother, you are going to sleep for the rest of the day. Then I'm going to make sure you eat. Yes? Okay."} Gilbert took the quill from the stained hands, holding out his hands palms facing the top of the tent. 

Alexander was still and refused to lock eyes with Gilbert, the little brother comment caught him off guard. {"I-I am not tired..."} he voice cracked and wavered, his hands dropping to the hard surface of the desk with a loud pop of knuckles hitting the hard wood. ["Alexander Hamilton, you are. I can see it, all of it. It's written across your face, and laced in your words and hands. So come on Little Lion."} Alexander shook his head and looked for another Quill, Gilbert growing ever more worried. {"If this is about the Winter Ball-"} 

{"It's not, it has nothing to do with the..."} And we have a winner. Gilbert scanned the desk, finally catching an open letter addressed to Alexander from a Schuyler, actually a Phillip Schuyler. {"Alexander?"} Alexander locked up hands curled around the edge of the desk, he was watching Gilbert as he read the letter. {"Elizabeth Schuyler, you are a lucky, lucky man."} Knowing where this was going Alexander furiously curled him hands in on themselves. He felt the frustration rise as words wouldn't form anymore, he snatched the letter from the Frenchman's hands. Gilbert startled, he knew something more was up. {"He's given you permission to marry his daughter after you meet with him formally. You've found your Soulmate Alexander."} He shook his head, angry tears formed in his eyes. They blurred his vision and his gray scales. He forced the silence to submit he needed his voice no matter how much he didn't want it. 

{"I'm her's she's not mine."} was all he manged to let escape his lips, the silence suddenly suffocating his lungs again, the loudness of it was screaming at him. He thought for a second that things would get better but they never would, would they? 

Gilbert, let out a gentle sigh. This was bad. He tapped the Boys knuckles asking permission. A sob was his answer. Alexander was being wrapped into a hug, the Frenchman ran his fingers in his hair. Mumbling into his scalp, nonsense really. {"Lets get you some sleep."} the boy nodded. Letting himself be lead to Gil's Tent the Frenchman let him curl up in the clothes he was in and held him close. 

* * *

Alexander woke to that for days, too the warmness of Gilbert's arms Hercules was a resident of the bed from time too time. When the man had time to rest with them, seeing as he was Gilbert's soulmate. John was around a lot as Alexander was pulled from him work when ever Gilbert or Washington saw fit. At first his distraction from everything was being taken away and there was a lot of frustration. Slowly but surely Alexander became more then another face around camp. He was no longer know as the man who stayed in Georges Tent all the time. 

Alexander still was a Stick of TNT lit at both ends, everything was hard. Smiling was hard and facing a mirror was hard, he didn't like having to look down at the scars that coated his body when he changed or took a bath. He didn't want to look at the way the hand prints on his skin fading into nothing still would linger even when they healed. Or the heat and fire that pooled between his legs, that would never go away. The Marking on his hip seemed to grow darker the more he smiled, he knew things were never going to leave. They had been carved into his mind and hip, rules, words, and Hands. The only set of hands he really trusted where Gilbert's, despite the callouses and rough palms. They where soft and kind, that's what mattered.   

* * *

The Battle of York Town

Alexander stood sharp next to George his hands twisted behind his back. Gilbert was there as where the French allies, both knew what this brought. 

Today marked the day that they would either leave this field head held high, or being dragged off dead on stretchers. Alexander felt the dread pool in his stomach, something was going to go wrong and he knew it. 

After days of fighting, a Man in a dark gray everyone was a custom as a "Red' coat was standing waving a bright white Flag. "We Won!" Alexander sees George smile, he looks at Gilbert. And for the first time in years the biggest smile anyone had ever seen was spreading across Alexander's features. "We Won." he whispered. A empty feeling that was a permit resident of his chest felt a little bit warmer as The Americans escorted them out of York Town. 

Gilbert through his arm over his shoulders a large smile on his face, he leaned his head on top of Alexander's. "I head back to France soon." Alexander felt the lump form in his throat, "I'm trying to bring freedom to them." Alexander looked up at him, "We'll try to be with you when you do. If we can't forgive us." Gilbert let out a laugh, the sound comforting. "I know you will, and you will always be forgiven." The Frenchman placed a small kiss on his forehead and raced into the crowd screaming and yelling. 

The excitement was different the the tension after a Battle won. The tension showed it wasn't over it was only one battle, that lead to too many friends dead. The heat of a battle after was heavy and thick. The excitement was happy full and had a soft coat of gray. Alexander let Hercules throw him over his shoulder, a surprised laugh bubbled out of mouth. Maybe he could used to this? 

* * *

 

August 27, 1782,

John Laurens was a shot on this day. We are sorry to Inform Alexander Hamilton of your soulmates death. 

We are apologize for the lack of notice, and lateness of the letter.

The middle of a war was hard to send almost anything. 

 

Alexander's finger nails ripped into the paper, tears flooded his eyes. 

Lies. 

Why? 

Did every one have to Lie?

Did it even matter anymore? 

He let the small sob fall from his lips, his whole boy shook. He let the letter fall from his hands. He instead dug his nails into the flesh of his palms, the warmth of blood fell over his fingers and down his wrist. Anger curled and a scream ripped from his throat, he dropped to the floor. He pulled his legs to his chest sobbing into his knees. 

* * *

Alexander went to Collage after it was all said and down, the silence fogged his mind a lot. Aaron Burr just happened to be living the the House next door, with his daughter. Alexander didn't like being anywhere he didn't have too be, in his small home most of the time. He let the quiet, empty, and hollow space fill his mind with a bit of peace. 

He became a Lawyer no matter how quiet he had to be, he didn't shake hands, or talk much but when he did people Listened. Which confused him a bit from time too time. 

Then Convention, he didn't mean to talk for 6 hours. Just, he, he well... it was a bit of rambling really, a lot of rambling. 

When he was given the U.S. Constitution as his client, well that was shocking. It would take him years to understand why, but this bundle of TNT was not ready to question it. 

He took a breath, and knock. "Alexander?" Burr stood in the doorway the candle light eliminating his figure. "It's the Middle of the night." Swallowing his quietness. "I- I well... I have a question for you. It's well..." deep breath. "My new client I would like to ask for your help." Aaron raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. "Who is it?" Here goes nothing, "The New U.S. Constitution?" 

"No." 

"Burr please! I never ask for anything! Just this once." Burr shut the door, Alexander knocked again. Eyes narrowed, frustration rose, it growled, and spat. "Alexander I said no." A question Alexander hadn't asked in years. "Why. We are trying to build a Nation. A Nation you fought and bled for. You studied, and spent sleepless nights for. Why not defend what you fought for." Alexander spat out, the TNT was light and sparking. "Because if it all falls a part?" Aaron Snapped stepping closer, "It Won't..." Alexander took a step back, watching Burr a little bit harder now. "You don't sound so sure, I said no. That's the way it's going to be. A No." 

* * *

Alexander wasn't going to give up, he spent too much time trying to patch himself back up. After a while he found it useless and put all his time into helping shape a nation. He slipped in between people in the crowd, eyes searching for someone. 

James Madison was talking to a man and as he walked away a short boy approached him. In his hands was a letter, his eyes where placed on the ground slightly. He took a deep breath then held out the letter. "Alexander Hamilton, I know who you are. I also don't have much time on my hands seeing as I have to be someone where I need to be soon. Everything I need to tell you is in this letter, a return address is on the last page." He then before James could say or ask any questions pretty much ran into the crowd. 

James that night when he got home, light a candle and read over the letter. The boy's script was neat, small, and very practiced. He was asking James something he said many people dismissed and rejected. James was surprised at the way the boy's voice in person was very different then the way he talked on paper, picking up a spare piece of Parchment he wrote back a replay. 

For the Span of 6 months John Jay, James Madison, and Alexander Hamilton wrote 85 essays. The original plain was 25, John Jay got sick after writing 4 coming back before it ended and wrote one more, James Madison Wrote 29, And Hamilton Wrote the Other 51. 

When James read the letter the mane focuses was that he couldn't do it by himself. Guess he could. He was slightly put off with it all. Alexander said he needed help when he could have done it all himself. 

* * *

 

Alexander was shocked to say the least when George sent him a letter insisting that they meet sometime that week. He accepted and sent a date, he bit at his lip and focused on his work.  

Alexander walked into the building tugging at his sleeve, his hair was pulled back with a frayed ribbon. The ribbon was an old and the gray had faded to a white almost. It wasn't actually his, Gilbert gave it too him as a gift so to say. Alexander knocked at the large doors, A Women he had meet once or twice maybe.

Martha Washington she was a kind person, though she took no sassy. Nothing at all. 

She gave him a big smile motioned to George who sat in the middle of a small living space. Martha waved mumbling something about getting a new book or making a pie as she left. "You, Asked to see me?" It was less formal then he normally used as of late but this was someone who was used to his quiet aura. 

"Yes... you see. They are asking me to lead. And I have to bring the most trusted people closer. So too speak." Alexander let his nose crinkle, confusion written across his face. "I... I know you've probably set where you are... and that you will probably not want to leave what you have built up. But-" 

Oh. 

"Treasury or State?"  

"What?" Deep breath, Count to ten. 

"Treasury or State Department, Sir." George smiled largely at him eye bright, "Treasury." 

"Let's go." 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you have any idea how much research I had to do!?!?!?! I'm pretty sure I had sixteen different tabs open or more by the time I was done with this chapter. 
> 
> Did you know that John Jay actually only wrote 4 papers before getting sick? He came back before the papers where finished and wrote the 64th paper? Because I didn't tell like sometime around 2 or 3 am writing this. Like bro... how long where you sick? OR! That Laurens died a year before the war ended? I thought he died after the war ended because the news hadn't reached them yet? I donno. It's weird.
> 
> I had to listen to really loud music to stay awake, and to keep my slowly going away writers block away. Soooo..... i think my ears are bleeding? 
> 
> Sorry if this chapter isn't as good as the last one, the other one was planed out over A month. This one was Thanks Giving Break. I'm not sure if I like it? 
> 
> Feedback or Constructive Criticism! Please and Thank you!


	3. Can't they look beyond the sureface,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {"French"} 
> 
> Foreshadowing=Italics 
> 
> Warnings: not all of this is Historically correct. This is for fun all I own is the AU idea. And the story line.... well History owns most of that.

* * *

Alexander sat at his desk, the building was fairly quiet. Alexander had his door shut, the scratch of the quill filling the air. He held his lip in between his teeth as normal, the scabbed ripped up flesh bleeding slightly. He ignored it in favor of the pain he was used too, grounding. Alexander jumped at the loud knock on his door, he dropped his quill. A man stuck his head into the room, eyes wide and a smile on his face. "Thomas Jefferson's here!" he then Disappeared back into the hallway. Leaving the door open, Alexander let out a small huff. He stood up slowly and limped over the the door closing it again.

Alexander was left in his quiet oasis, filled with only the steady huff of his breath and the scratch of the quill again. He didn't look up when the door was opened again, knowing it was probably George. He looked up when a cough cut through the air, to his slight surprise it wasn't George.

Thomas Jefferson was standing in his doorway a smug look on his face, dread pooled in the pit of Alexander's stomach. So this was the man Gilbert talked so fondly of in his letters, a smug ass Virginian who looked to probably fuel the Panic attacks he hadn't had in forever. "So your the famous Alexander Hamilton. Heard so many good things about you." The man's eyes sweated over his body, his face twisted into a disgusted snarl.

Yes Alexander knew he looked like shit now need to point it out, the old ribbon held up his hair which was long by a mans standers again, his coat collar was higher then anything you could find it hid the Crown that was cut under his ear at the junction where his skull and neck met. Alexander didn't think or even process what was coming out of his mouth tell it was a bit too late. "Ah so you must be Thomas Jefferson, it's a pity I've only heard of you when Washington told me you'd be joining us running the State department."

When Alexander thought about it, it sorta was true. Gilbert had said somethings but not enough to form any kind of opinion on the man. But really he had never really heard about him, I mean when your mostly used for-.

Not today, not going to face that today. The man in front of him looked heavily offended, Alexander felt the thightness in his chest close in a bit more. He looked over the small wire framed cracked glass perched on his nose. Thomas leaned on his cane a bit more, glaring at him. "I just came to introduce myself and too tell you we have a cabinet meeting in at least an hour." Alexander could here the undertone under the Heavy Southern Accent. Alexander thought for a moment, before snapping at the Man. "You have introduced yourself, now please get out of my office." He looked down at the Parchment again, picking the Quill back up. Alexander listened as the man let out a growl turned and left.

He slammed the door closed scarring Alexander. The man let out a shudder gasp, he put the quill down rubbing his cramping, and burning hand. He closed his eyes and held his breath, his hands shook slightly. Calming his self, before gathering his things up. Might as well get ready for the meeting, Alexander rubbed his eyes.

* * *

 Alexander was pulling at his hair pacing in George's office, eyes pricked with tears that threatened to spill over. George came into the room the door closing behind him with a soft clamp, he stood watching Alexander for a moment. Frustration was written all over the small, 4'8 mans face. It was incased in his movements. 

Alexander's hair had escaped the ribbon which was lying limply in Alexander's hand. He tugged at his hair even more, George let out a huff of air. "Hamilton. You need to get this plan on the floor, and get the votes." Alexander shook his head, "I know, Madison won't talk to me. I don't know why. Jefferson hasn't even looked at the plan I know that." The frustration was clear in is voice, as well as angry tears. George wasn't good at this part when Alexander got so frustrated at him self and everyone else that he started crying or yelling; most of the time it was crying. 

Sometimes George wished that Gilbert was here. The Frenchman was much better at this then him, "Take what's left of the day off, then clean up the bill tomorrow before giving it too Mr.Jefferson." Alexander pulled his hands shaking from his hair, his lip was trapped between his teeth again. "Yes sir." He whispered quietly, turning away and walking out. "And Hamilton! Give you lip a break. Son." The man's face flushed a dark gray, moving down the hallway faster. 

* * *

 Alexander spent the rest of the day roaming around downtown. The middle side really the lower part was dangerous, and he happened to live down there. Alexander walked into the small bakery, he didn't say anything but a small bag was placed in front of him. "Afternoon Alexander." He smiled slightly at the woman in front of him. Her husband owned the shop, she ran it. Alexander took the bag, paid, then walked out. 

He was humming to himself when he almost was bumped into. Alexander froze the man practically yelled an apology, he looked a little lost from Alexander's perspective. "Sorry, I have to go." He ran off before Alexander could say anything. Someone from Uptown most likely, they wondered downtown it happened from time to time. 

Alexander finally felt sleep creep up on him, he pulled his messenger bag closer and headed home. He was tense and his chest was tight. The word was catching up again, and Alexander really didn't want it too. He opened his door, and shut it with a firm shove. His dropped his bag on the counter, he rubbed his eyes. Looking at the mess that scattered the floor remembered why he was staying tell late at the building. He rubbed his temples, and went about picking up the books that where laying everywhere. The maid that he paid to come in and clean once a week never touched the books. She knew that if they were in the floor there was a reason. Alexander rubbed his eyes again, placing the books on an empty shelf. He stumbled into the small bedroom before flopping across the bed and closing his eyes. Not even bothering with the covers. 

* * *

 Alexander rolled over on the bed staring at the ceiling, breath coming out in short gasps. Hands curled around the sheet under him, tears slowly flowing down his cheeks. He sat there for a while, before sliding out of bed. Grumbling in French, his hands curled into the sleeves his nails finding the already made holes. 

His nails dug into flesh, ripping away the scabs and the blood flowed over his fingers. The first time he did it he panicked now it was just a grounding method. He limped into the small kitchen, made a cup of coffee. He opened the bag that he got the day before, a loaf of bread and coffee grounds sat in the bottom. He felt the edge of his lips curl upward slightly. 

Maybe it would be a rare good day?

God how wrong he was. 

* * *

Alexander brushed his hair out of his face for the forth time that morning, he blindly reached down in his back stopping off too the side of the sidewalk. He pulled the ribbon out brushing his hair back he pulled it up. He sung open the door to the building, the heavy sent of ink hit his nose. He headed down the his office when a loud laugh drew his attention, Jefferson, Madison, Burr, shockingly Adams, and some people Alexander didn't bother learning their names. Alexander stiffened when he heard his name, he saw none of them had seen him yet. "Little things a whore, he always has private meetings that he comes out flustered from. His hairs  a rats nest after too." Burr let discomfort be shown on his face at the mans words, "He's not a Whore. His hairs a rats nest because he pulls on it when he's stressed." Adams laughed, hitting Burr's shoulder. "Your're right he's the presidents little Slut." he completely ignored the rest. 

Alexander felt the heat in his chest build, the tears building up. "He is not." Aaron's voice was thick and angry. "I can't believe Lafayette spoke so fondly of a Whore, and that high collar he wears? He use it too hide all the love marks?" Aaron got quiet he couldn't defend Alexander anymore with out spilling secrets, Alexander slowly reached up and took the ribbon out of his hair. The wavy mass floated down and stopped mid waist, he turned and walked away the tears threatened too pour out again. He got to his office and slammed the door shut behind him. The force behind it shaking the walls, the loud noise covering the sob that let his lips. Alexander locked it dropping his bag on the table, he slid under his desk knees tucked to his chin. 

He bit into his sleeve and cried his chest heaved. Not enough air, his body shook hands nails digging into his palms. He didn't know how long he sat there, crying in a away he hadn't done in a really long time. Alexander looked at the ribbon abandoned on the floor, and he remembered why he was crying in the first place. Alexander crawled out from under the desk, he rubbed his eyes. Picking up the ribbon he retied his hair, nabbing his lip between his teeth again. Alexander pulled the papers out of his bag, running over the new draft of the bill. He worked tell 2 before coming in that afternoon, he walked over putting on a brave face before slinging open the door and stalking over to Jefferson's office.

Some of the men he saw when he came in where talking in Jefferson's office still. He didn't even knock, walked in the men went quiet parting like the red sea for him. Alexander dropped the stack of papers on the tall mans desk, turning around and walked back out. "What is this?" Alexander kept walking, before throwing a sharp response over his shoulder. "Why don't you read it this time. Maybe then you'll understand what I'm talking about in the next cabinet meeting." Alexander stalked down the hallway, right back into his office. 

* * *

Alexander turned a cold shoulder to any rumors that floated around the building, he let it happen. It's not like he could do anything about it really, if he tried to he's probably just be sucked into another panic attack. He didn't need anyone to form a reputation for him, if he was going to have one it was going to be on his own account. Alexander was getting feed up with the whispers of the words that he slept his way to the top. 

"Hamilton! I think that's Washington's voice calling you. Better run off to your daddy." Alexander stiffened, hands curling around the paper in his hand tighter. Alexander kept walking, away from Washington's office and too Aaron's. "Got any new marks under that collar?" Alexander walked faster, "Ah so you do." Alexander let go of his silence, it was an accident. "I sure to hell hope there's not one there." He growled, Thomas's foot approaching foot steps stopped. "What?" Alexander turned around and for once he let the actual fury slip on his face. "The What is that not all of us got to go and sit back in France. Some of us had to actually do shit." Jefferson blinked at him then let out a low laugh, he had to look up at the man. Alexander felt the bullshit coming, "From what I heard from my friend Laf-"

"I'm to stop you right there Jefferson, I want you to know that I was friends with Gilbert long before you meet the man." Alexander stressed the Frenchman's name, crossing his arms taking a step closer to Jefferson which was unlike him. "And I'll have you know that I paid a much bigger price then anyone in the war that I know of, so before you step into completely uncharted waters, think about what you are doing. Trust me I could destroy you if I wanted." Jefferson stood there a sheepish gray making its way across his already dark gray skin. "I'd like to see you try." Aaron who happened to be passing by, stopped. "Alexander, I believe you had something to discus with me?" Alexander glared at the tall curly haired man before following Aaron. 

Alexander didn't know how much longer he could take any of this. He was suffocating it anger and frustration, he was pulling at his hair so much he was surprised he hadn't gone bald yet.

* * *

Alexander sat in his home, the ticking of the Grandfather clock filling his ears. That was probably the nicest thing he owned, it again was a gift. From the Frenchman. Alexander rolled over in the large bed, he was so tired. He just wanted the cold feeling to go away, he rolled out of the bed. Walking into the dress room, a mirror was leaning against the wall. Alexander got a good look at himself before picking up the closet pair of scissors he could find. He cut the dark gray locks just below his shoulders, he traced the sensitive scar on his neck with his thumb. Leaving his hair down he changed close not looking in the mirror again, the low collar coat thrown over his shoulders. 

As the short man walked into his office, six different people stopped to stare at him. Jefferson with Madison at his side where talking out side Alexander's office, their hands curled together. Alexander tried to walk past them, only to stop short of the squawk that Jefferson let out. "What is on your neck." The tall man reached out a hand to push Alexanders chin out of the way. The short thing jumped, "Don't touch me." he growled out. James was staring at him as well, "Is that a Crown? I thought on-" he stopped short realization dawning on his face, he reached out a hand then pulled it back like he'd been burned. 

Alexander moved his way around the to with out making any contact with them, opening the door. He was about to walk in when a hand gripped his shoulder suddenly. His eyes went wide he turned around coming face to face with a half gray half in color world. He meet large gray blue eyes, he stepped back. 

Too much, too much, no, no, no. Breath. Air you need air. 

Alexander jerked backwards hitting the half open door before ripping himself from Jefferson's grip. He slammed the door shut, locking it behind him. He Slid down it pulling his knees to his chest. {"un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix."} he whispered, {" un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix."} 

{"un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept-"} a sob fell from his lips, tears ears fell down his face, hands in his hair. Alexander ignored the loud banging on the door, or the yelling of Thomas and James's voices. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest habit I ever out into my writing that is about myself is actually the lip biting. My lower lip looks horrible.
> 
> I also feel like a horrible person for the end of this chapter. I also wrote most of this on Phillips death day... Yay.


	4. it's not that hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {"French"} 
> 
> ("Latin") 
> 
> Warnings: same as last chapter. If you didn't read those, meh. Also warnings on language, and Panic attacks.

Sobs that fell from his lips where getting harder. No! He wasn't supposed to have a Soulmate, no one deserved to have him. No one needed him, he was just an object with too much going on. He couldn't be happy, no matter how hard he tried. Alexander curled even further in on himself as the banging on the door grew quiet as another voice joined the group. Yelling continued, though the thrid tone was angry and fire spitting of George Washinton. 

"Go, out both of you. I don't care. Go." The president snapped, as the two scared and shocked Virginian's walked back to James's office. George reached up the lip of the door frame sat a key, shoving it into the locked he pushed the door open only for it to stop. "Alexander i need you to move." He whispered quietly a small shuffle and soft half sob half hiccup reached his ears. He shut the door behind him, and sat on the floor. Alexander's huddled form reminded him of the first time he met the small immigrant. He didn't reach out to touch Alexander, not wanting to panic the small man even more. 

He did press his foot to Alexander's, he unlike everyone else could see threw the frustration, fake light smiles, and bright eyes. He saw what was in front of him, a small man, with blank emotionless eyes, the shaking hands, the dark bags under his eyes, the unhealthy thin frame. He saw the look that was in Alexander's eyes, of some one who had seen too much and didn't know why they still woke up the next day. He saw Alexander for who he was and he hated that he couldn't help him, that the only person Alexander actually trusted was in France fighting in another war. 

Alexander slowly looked up at the man sitting in front of him, eyes puffy and eyes blank. "I'm okay?" It was more of a question, his voice thick with his accent that he drowned trying to sound at least remotely normal. Alexander watched as George opened his arms slightly, his dark eyes regarding him before he pushed himself to his feet. "I'll be fine, I have things to do. Good day Mr. President." The Small man whipped his face on his sleeve and turned away. He was shaking lightly but looked to be trying to pull himself back together. 

You could almost see the thin white string that was wrapped around him holding the pieces together. 

Letting out a long soft sigh, he turned. Putting a hand on the door knob, "Good day Alexander." George left the office, and for a moment a nagging voice at the back of his head yelled at him to walk back in there. But he didn't. This wasn't his place, James and Thomas were going to have to fix this. They started it. 

They need to finish it. 

* * *

 Alexander buried himself in his work, hands cramping, lack of sleep, and pretty much stopped eating. It wasn't like he was putting off taking care of himself, he just forgot about if. With avoiding Jefferson and Madison, writing, worrying about Gilbert, and keeping to himself. Basic human needs didn't fall into his mind set. 

It was a habit that Alexander had that was dangerous, it was much like the habit he had when he was with the British just much, much different.

Alexander gathered his things quickly he was going to be late to the Meeting. Pulling at his shirt sleeve, he fast walked down to the room. Pushing the door open he let out a small sigh when he realized not everyone was there yet. 

 Exhaustion nagged at him like a dog on a bone, grit and bit at him. He shut his eyes and slowly reopened them when he heard more people shuffle in. He fiddled with the cuff on his coat, the gray fabrics ruff between his fingers. His lip trapped between his teeth. 

He rested his head on one of his hands and listened to Jefferson start out the meeting. A bubble of anger rose in him, slowly it chased out the exhaustion. George nodded at Jefferson before turning his gaze to Alexander. "Secretary Hamilton, your response." Alexander stood up a little unsteady, a half worry look half smug from Jefferson was thrown in his direction. Alexander glared at him crossed the floor, stood in the middle. 

As soon as he opened his mouth, the fight drained from his mind. The haze of exhaustion crashed down full force, his legs buckled and the last he saw where large blue gray eyes. Then nothing.   

* * *

 The small man's knees buckled, Thomas grabbed him before he could hit the floor. Eyes wide, he was shocked at the new variety of colors that spread through the world. Yelling filled the room just as fast, "Meeting dismissed! Get out! Madison, Jefferson say." George barked over the noise the congressmen fled the room just as fast as they walked in. 

James had Surprisingly cleared one of the tables, pretty much running to the place where Thomas was setting Alexander's small form down. "Mr. president?" George shot both a short look, Before pressing The back of his hand to Alexander's forehead. "I swear if you get yourself sick, Gilbert with murder me." He mumbled, Thomas and James looked at each other with wide eyes. 

"Why did you need us sir?" Madison asked hand curling together with Thomas's. George tucked his arms under Alexander knees and shoulders. Lifting the small man off the ground, it looked effortless. "You are going to be watching Alexander untill I see fit." James looked flabbergasted, Thomas open and closed his mouth twice. "Why?" George sent them both a sharp look. "This is your fault, fix it because your Soulmates as well." He looked at James before waving at Alexander's stuff. "I also want this resolved, I can't read French." Thomas grabbed Alexander's thing putting the papers on the desk into the leather bag. Both men quietly walked behind George, he asked a secretary to bring around a carriage. 

Thomas and James sat in the fancy carriage, as George Placed Alexander's small form in the opposite bench. "When he wakes up don't let him leave at all tell he's had a weeks worth of sleep, and eaten every meal you put in front of him." Both looked at Alexander with worried glances. "Yes sir." 

* * *

 Alexander woke with a sharp gasp, in a large hell of a lot more comfortable bed then his own. The sheets where the wrong shade of gray, the room didn't smell like water. He felt extremely tired on top of not knowing where he was, he moved to sit up but exhaustion cling to his limbs weighing him down. Giving up, he snuggled back down into the covers with a huff. Hands curled slightly around the edge of the blanket. He searched his brain for the situation leading up to this, and coming up with a congress meeting and a black out. Shutting his eyes, he tried to relax all the tenseness in his body and go back to sleep when the door opened. Alexander turned over to face the wall, "Alexander?" The voice cut across the silence Madison... 

Alexander opened both eyes before trying to push himself up on his elbows. The much taller man reached over to help him sit up before Alexander recoiled at the out starched hands. Mummering an apology he re tracked his hands, {"What time is it?"} James looked at him with confusion written across his features. "I don't speak French Alexander." Alexander felt embarrassment creep up, seeing as when he first wakes up he doesn't remember which language is which. He opened his mouth before clamping it shut, he shoved himself up. Eyes tracking the edges of the room, wild and confused lingering in the grays. His eyes snapped back to Madison, a frantic look crossing his face. The small man threw back the covers scaring James who stood a step back. The small man pulled back his shirt sleeve before dragging his nails across the scabs and scars, James yelled as blood bubbled up in the wake of his nails. 

James grabbed Alexander's hands before he could rip apart any more flesh on his arms. "Hamilton!" Thomas barged into the room at the yelling. "James! Alexander!" James held onto Alexander's arm in a tight yet soft grip. Alexander was trying to remove his arm from James's grip. A light scream of French Don't touch me, fell off his lips in repeat. James let out and put his hands on each side of Alexander's face. 

"Shh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. But you can't do that." Alexander was on the verge of tears, don't touch me continued to fall off his lips in a desperate plea. Thomas had put his hands on Alexanders knee and a hand on James lower back. "Alexan-" The small man let out a rush of French. {"I-Please just stop... make him let go."} Thomas stopped mind sentence, before grabbing James arms removing them from Alexander's face. the small man slid backwards up against the head board. Pulling his knees to his chest, and tucking head between them. He looked like a child, his shoulders shook and a shuddered soft sob escaped his lips. 

The exhaustion catch up all too quickly, the throbbing headache that screamed in his head made everything to bright. The sudden burst of colors and loud yet soft voice of Madison, startled him. He didn't understand why he drug his nails across his arm, or why he wanted to scream. All he knew was that he wanted was Gilbert he made things less confusing with soft words and a gentle hand in his hair. One that didn't pull and yank at it, like Alexander did too himself.

James backed out of the room leaving Thomas with Hamilton, the 6'3 Southern man climbed onto the bed and spoke in a low whisper of french. {"Alexander, I need you too count to 7 and suck in a deep breath, hold it for a count of 4, and let it out for a count of 8.}" Alexander tried to do as instructed but It was caught in his throat, along with a sob. James came back into the room with a dark gray towel that turned a Navy Blue when he took Alexander's arm and pressed it against the cuts. 

A soft whimper fell of his lips but held still, as James cleaned up the blood with soft hands, and a gentle calming voice. James asked softly as he removed the towel if he could touch Alexander. Hamilton looked at him with blank, shattered, dark eyes before giving a slight nod. James sat next to Thomas and the two's arms brushed before James reached out and pushed the hair from his face. "Washington want's us to figure this out, you will in his words be staying with us tell you get a weeks worth of sleep." Alexander locked eyes with Madison, before sweeping over to Thomas's eyes. "Figure things out?" he mumbled off handed, the Caribbean accent thick and drowning his words. 

Both said nothing for a long time, "If by Figuring things out, once a week you come by here. We color collect and you can leave That's it." Alexander closed his eyes as the light started hurting his head again. "Alright." 

* * *

Alexander stayed with Madison and Jefferson for a week, then went back to work. He moved back into his own house, and went back to the way he always did things. Just sleeping wasn't completely apart of his scheduled, he found time not always. It was hard, after sleeping in a house with constant noise and movement. The silence in his own house was too loud, the anger that suddenly rested in his bones made him more jumpy then usual. 

He avoided Jefferson and Madison like the plague as much as possible. He let them drag him to there house sat there and stared into space for hours as the two talked excitedly over the colors like children with a sweet. Alexander found the colors just as gray and dull as before, nothing to get excited about. His foot pressed against the cuddling couples feet. 

After a while Alexander pulled his foot away both looked at him, as part of the colors drained away. Alexander stood, moving away from the love sick pair. Instead of pulling on his boots grabbing his coat and bag, then leaving. Like they expected him too.

Alexander dug threw the shoulder bag. "Hamilton, we made an agreement you are not aloud to work when we do this." Thomas said in a hard yet soft tone, Alexander snarled something under his breath. Pulling out a novel that looked like it had been read over a million times. The spine cracked, the cover weathered by hands, a small ribbon trapped between the yellow pages. He slid back onto the couch, opening the book in grossing himself in the French novel. 

Thoma and James stared at him for a while, watching his eyes glide across the words, his hands gently turning the old fragile pages, the way the corners of his mouth would either lift or drop. Like he wasn't reading it for the 500th Time, like he was going to read it tell the cover fell off. And maybe he was... 

* * *

  Alexander was a hurricane in his own way, Thomas thought. Watching the man now as he walked into the building, eyes down cast. People parted like the Red Sea before him, moved so quick as if scared to get hit by his Non Stop movements. It had been a while sense the last time the three sat down and watched the colors. There was something in Alexander's attitude as of late that James and Thomas that was so loud it made them leave him alone. 

The small man brushed past everyone in the office in such a hurry that it was slightly worrying. His hair was down, that ribbon tied around his wrist. He walked into his office and didn't come back out. 

Thomas waited tell the end of the work day, before tapping lightly on James's door. "Darling, I'm going to get Hamilton if that's okay with you?" James's was packing up his stuff, the slightly shorter man looked up. "It's fine, I think I'm going to leave now? You know Hamilton will want to finish something." Thomas nodded, brushing his fingers along James hand before leaving savoring the colors.

Thomas was hesitant to knock on Hamilton's door. After a moment of standing there he knocked, the sound of something falling over was his answer. The door swung open behind the small man letters covered almost every inch of the floor. Many still had the wax sealed of them, a box over in the corner was over flowing with letters. Many more litterly the surfaces of the desk, and bench. 

He looked down at Hamilton, who was looking at him with a deep frown. A scowl covering his features, "What are you doing?" the smaller man didn't respond, hands curling around his sleeve.  Thomas stepped into the office, holding the door open. Hamilton stepped back, watching Jefferson look at the letters. "John Laurens? Elizabeth Schuyler? Angelica Schuyler?" He looked at Hamilton who was scrapping up letters form the floor watching Jefferson out of the corner of him eye. As if scared he would do something. 

"Almost all of these are dated back two or three years! And not even opened?!" He turned to the much smaller man, after he picked up one from Philip Schuyler. His answer was silence, and the shuffle of papers. "Alexander." He looked up at Thomas, eyes sharp. "Are you going to Answer me?" A shrug was all he got in return. {"Alright then, if we need too. I'll speak French."} he looked at Hamilton who still didn't respond for a moment. {"If we.... color Collecting... to finish putting these all back in the box."}

His voice was so soft that Thomas lost parts, he sounded strained. As if he was trying to make an effort to talk, {"Okay, I'll help you put them back... organized this time."} 

As Thomas helped put the letters in a large box, he read a few already opened ones. Angry letters spouting how Alexander could do that to him Soulmate. To just Leave her in a world with out the colors for his own selfish reasons. Many more hateful and insults filled the letter.  Thomas set that one under his leg, he felt Alexander watch him do it. 

The usual tenseness in his shoulders was even more tense. “What is this?” Thomas asked once all the other letters where sorted and placed back under Hamilton’s Desk. The smaller man jumped, turning around to look at the out stretched letter... his eyes grew wide. Before Thomas could see what was going on Hamilton snatched the letter out of his hand and was shoving it into his bag. “Hamilton! I would enjoy and explaintion! Now.” The small man didn’t move a death grip on his bag. “I have all damn day.” Thomas Leaned against the door frame, The small immigrant opened and closed his mouth before locking his gaze on his shoes. “Nothing of importance.” He snapped his tone low and hard. Probably the dangerous sound Thomas had every head leave Hamilton’s mouth.

Hamilton shoved past Thomas his small frame making it easy to do so with out touching Him. “Hamilton!” Washington’s voice came from down the hall. The small man snapped to a attention, eyes meeting George’s. Thomas had stood up straight the words he was going to say died on his lips as he saw the change in Hamilton’s posture. 

“At easy Alexander,” George’s tone was light, Hamilton’s face turned a dark gray. He slide his feet apart slightly and tried to relax. Even Burr who was walking toward the door had stiffened even more looked to be trying to relax a bit. “I just wanted to make sure you aren’t going to burn anything later.” Hamilton looked at his feet, shifting slightly.

His voice came out soft again as if he was trying to fight an invisible force in his mind and mouth. “I can’t promise.. I... sir.” It was so soft you lost most of the words. Washington just gave him a soft rare smile and walked off. Hamilton watched him walk away before turning back to Thomas his eyes hard. 

Thomas still glared slightly at Alexander he still wanted an answer. A man Thomas didn’t know the name of snarled at Hamilton. “Kings Men.” Thomas saw something in Hamilton snap. The small 4’8 man whipped around, and the other man took a step back. “Alexander...” The smaller man was glaring hard. Thomas took a step forward glareding at the offending party. The smaller man couldn’t seem to get any words out, his body shook. 

* * *

 

Alexander turned and walked out of the building Jefferson on his heals. A sharp look at the closet carriage driver had him opening the door. Jefferson in after Alexander, who sat as far a way from the taller man as possible. “Now the Letter Hamilton what is it about.” Alexander glared at the angry words stained into the parchment. He tried to grab the words tried to find the right thing to say. It was all stuck wouldn’t come out of his mouth, he couldn’t find a way to make the words form sentences. Tears threatened to pour over, he could feel the thick bubble rise in into the back of his mouth. Instead of sitting at the bottom of his throat like normal. 

He looked at Jefferson then at the letter, before ripping it in two. Letting the pieces fall to the floor, “It’s no longer important, it holds no important to me. It shouldn’t bother you, it has no impact on you.” Alexander knocked on the outside wall of the carriage. The horses came to a stop, Alexander grabbed his bag and walked out.  

* * *

 Thomas reached down picking up the two halves of the letter, fitting it together the best he could, instead of scanning it this time he actually read it. 

Alexander Hamilton,

It’s been over a year and a half sense you’ve sent a letter to my sister, Eliza, I understand you must be busy with the war going on. Though from the letters we have received from our father it’s coming to an end. You have neglected to write Eliza like you said you would. You have left probably the best thing in the world a sick mess. The rejection of ones SoulMate, of their other half is a heavy blow to ones heath. The closet you can get to death with out dying.

You are a lying asshole, how dare you do this! My sister deserves the world, not a life sentence bed ridden. Of a world deprived of something you get in return! Does only a part of her live in you? You belong to someone else, and she is just a mild inconvenience?

My sister is the brightest thing in this world of grays, you sir are a dark gray. One that no one ever cast a second look, unless they want to use you for there own befits. 

I hope you burn,

Angelica Schuyler

Thomas sat in silence for the rest of the ride, walked numbly toward his and Jame’s home. James was sitting on the sofa when Thomas came in. He sat up worried written across his face at the look in Thomas’s own face and the lack of angry and practicaly silent Immigrant.

“Thomas? Doll?” James was up off the sofa quickly Thomas said nothing just handing him the letter. James took the letter and read through it. James dropped the pieces to the floor, looking up at Thomas.

Both stood in silence.

There was a lot they didn’t know.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Kudos but I live for Comments!  
> Also the count to 7 and suck in a breath as you count, hold your breath for a count of four and let it out for 8 is an amazing way to calm down. At least it is for me...


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